Tragedy
by Scotty1609
Summary: An old foe is back and wants Irey's head on a platter. When he discovers Hana, though, chilling things may be in store for the Wayne family... SpeedDemon, JaixLian, BartxRose... Hana!verse... bad title... :*(
1. the Fight

**You guys are going to HATE me for this story... BUT I AM NOT SORRY! I've had this planned ever since BEFORE the first story in Hana Martha's life was published, so NO HATERS ALLOWED!**

**Anyways, I do not own Batman or Flash or Nightwing or Ravager or Red Robin or Alfred or Impulse or Black Canary or Arsenal or...**

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CHAPTER 1

Damian swore as he pulled his tie tight, straightening his slick black jacket over his crimson dress shirt as he took the stairs two at a time, coming to jump into the foyer of Wayne Manor. Bruce, from his position in the kitchen, chuckled at his youngest son from behind his newspaper, coffee in one hand. Iris, Damian's feisty ginger wife, sat at the kitchen table with her father-in-law, her shoulder-length hair in a choppy disarray as Hana, Damian's three-year-old daughter, 'brushed' it with a plastic princess comb. The black haired little girl turned, saw her father, and squealed, stumbling into his legs and beginning to talk all about her dream from the night before. Damian couldn't help but grin as he picked up the blue-nightgown-clad girl and propped her on his hip, going to snatch up a piece of bacon from Bruce's plate. ″Hey! Get your own,″ Bruce teased, smacking Damian's hands with the newspaper. Damian rolled his eyes, hefting his daughter up higher onto his hip as she began to talk about how Princess Jasmine and Princess Ariel had invited her to a tea party, but the two couldn't decide whether to have it on a flying carpet or underwater.

″Maybe Aquaman will let you go to Atlantis for your tea party,″ Iris teased as she took her daughter back. Damian and Bruce both glared softly at the speedster, who laughed loudly and tossed her crimson hair.

″Iris-″

″Just a joke, Dami,″ Iris assured her husband, patting his arm as she set Hana down. ″Hana, sweetie, why don't you go wake up Uncle Dick?″

Hana's golden eyes brightened, and she squealed loudly before clambering up the stairs. She was rather small for her age, so she stumbled up the stairs rather than ran. Her tiny, freckled shoulders were rosy pink under the straps of her nightgown. Damian noted that one of her straps was untied, but he didn't have time to chase after her.

″I'm running late, Father,″ he said to Bruce. ″Can I take the Zonda?″

The man's navy eyes narrowed in suspicion, the wrinkles around his eyes lengthening and deepening considerably. ″You're not running _that_ late.″

Damian rolled his eyes. ″Alright. How about one of the Porsches?″

″The black one? No. The red, fine.″

Iris rolled her eyes. ″What is it with Bats and black?″

Damian growled softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ″Iris, we're _not_ to talk about anything like _that_ except for _you-know-where_.″

Iris sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning. ″I _know_, Damian. I'm not a child.″

″Then why the Aquaman and Bat comments? Hm?″

Iris rolled her eyes again, standing and taking her plate to the sink. ″A comment is hardly a conversation, Dami. Especially if it's just a _joke_. You know, the things that you _laugh_ at?″ She snorted and murmured under her breath, ″Or at least, _non-Bats_ do...″

Damian snarled, tying on his shoes as he simultaneously searched the key rack for the red Porsche keys. ″_Iris_.″

″Really? A _warning tone_? DamianWayne, I'm not a teenager- nor am I a dog.″

Bruce slowly hid behind his newspaper again.

″I never said you were! I was simply trying to get your blabbering to stop.″

″_Blabbering_? Oh, well, good morning to you, too, sweetheart.″

″Iris!″

″Why are you so moody this morning?″

″I'm running _late_. Someone decided not to wake me up when _she _got up this morning.″

″It's not my job to wake you in the morning! You're almost twenty-six years old, Damian!″

Damian growled to himself, looking at his wife with a growing anger. ″You _knew_ I came in from... _patrol_...″ he whispered the word ″late last night!″

″It's not _my_ fault you don't know when to take a break! You know how often Hana asks me why Daddy comes home so late? Why Daddy's never around anymore? You're always either at work or with the Outsiders or the League and I just-″ Iris threw her hands in the air, and Bruce flinched. ″I don't know what to tell her, Damian! Maybe it would be easier if she knew we were superheroes-″

″NO.″

″Damian-″

″I don't give a damn, Iris. We are _not _telling her-″

″Why? So that she doesn't want to join the family business when she's older? Damian! Hana has hyperactive reflexes. She has a hyperactive metabolism. She's _always_ running around or shoving food down her throat.. It's all the signs of a speedster!″ Iris's face was red, her freckles blending in with the angry flush on her face and neck.

Damian turned his neck away, a twitch above his eyebrow and a vein popping out of his neck. ″Dammit, Iris, she is _not_ going to be a superhero-″

″WHAT IF SHE _WANTS _TO?″

By now Bruce had slipped out of the room, but was listening in the doorway, rubbing his temples at the shouting voices. He knew that Dick had to be up by now, with all of the screaming, and was probably trying to distract Hana so that the child didn't come downstairs to her parents fighting yet again. The last time that had happened, it had taken all day to calm her down, along with several Pillow Pets, glasses of chocolate milk, and a marathon of 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic', which Damian and Iris both were forced to watch as punishment by Linda and Bruce. Wally and Dick had just laughed at the two as they gulped a beer and watched football with Bart and Tim in the entertainment room.

There was silence in the kitchen. Then, Iris sighed and pulled some hair out of her reddened face. ″You need to get to work. You're even later now.″

Damian walked towards the garage. He stopped a moment, as if about to make some comment to his wife. Instead, he turned around and kept walking, brushing past his older brother as Dick came downstairs clad in only pajama pants, Hana clinging onto his back like a baby Koala bear.

″Hey, Lil' D. Why aren't you at-″

″I outgrew that name a _long time ago_, Grayson. I thought you understood that by now.″

Hana looked at her father with pursed lips and teary eyes, sensing her father's aggressive mood. ″Daddy-″

″I've got to go to work, sweetheart,″ he said, kissing her head before ruffling her curly onyx hair. ″I'll see you later, okay?″

Hana sighed, nodding. Damian left, slamming the garage door shut. Hana rubbed her cheek against her uncle's bare back, sighing heavily. Dick smiled sadly at the action, reaching back to lift the girl into his arms. ″Wanna have a sock race today?″

″Don't you have work, too, Dick?″ came Bruce's knowing voice from the other room. Dick's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he stuck out his tongue. ″Your face will get stuck like that.″

″How did you- Y'know what? Never mind.″

Hana laughed loudly, a perfect little ringing laugh that made her sound like a Gerber baby. Dick grinned, tickling the child's sides to make her laugh even more. Hana squealed and jumped from her uncle's arms and ran, stumbled, into the kitchen, where she hid behind her mother. Iris let out an angry huff before scooting the child into the living room. ″Sweetheart, Mommy's gonna go for a run, okay?″ she said to the tot, patting her head. ″Stay with Grandpa Bruce and be good, okay? Mommy'll be back in ten minutes.″

Hana pouted, but nodded. Dick looked at the child with pity, sighing to himself. He felt sorry for Hana. Ever since Damian and Iris had decided not to tell the girl about their 'extracurricular activities', the couple had been fighting more often. Iris wanted to tell Hana and get the girl trained under her father or herself, while Damian was adamant that the tot would never be a superhero. Due to their arguing, Damian had been spending more time at work and with the League and Outsiders, and Iris had been out with the Titans almost every day, when she wasn't working at the Watchtower's forensics lab on Cold Cases, just for something to do. Hana had become a thought in the afterburners, when she had been the origin of the argument. Not that Dick blamed her- he could never blame his angel of a niece for her parents' arguing. All couples went through rough patches. It was just that a three-year-old didn't know that. Hana had no way of knowing that it was all going to be okay- not unless somebody told her.

Dick took Hana's hand in his, leading her back up the stairs as Iris left through the front door. ″Wanna help Uncle Dickie get his stuff together, Hana?″

″Yeah!″ the girl exclaimed with excitement, jumping from one foot to the other as she grinned. Dick smiled when he saw Hana's tiny teeth, just barely peeking out from her gums.

Once they arrived at Dick's room, the man pulled out his GPD uniform. Laying the navy blue suit on the bed, Dick pulled out three ties and laid them down next to it before pulling out the rest of his things. He called over his shoulder to Hana from his position hunched over in his closet, ″Which tie, _floricea_? Red, blue, or black?″

Chewing on the ends of her hair, Hana plopped down at the foot of the bed and stared up at the ties, touching each one of them with reverence, as if each was a piece of christened satin. ″Uh... Dis one!″ she exclaimed after a moment, holding up the black tie.

Dick looked up from readying his gun and chuckled, shaking his head. He placed the gun back in its holster, going over to his niece and ruffling her bedhead of curls. ″Right...″ he said under his breath, ″...just like a Bat...″

″Wha?″

″Nothing, _floricea_. Why don't you go get your comb and spray? I'll brush your hair for you.″

The toddler squealed, stumbling out of the room to go get her comb. Dick chuckled, shutting the door and quickly donning his uniform and tie. He mussed up his hair and waited for Hana to knock on the door. She never did, though, and after five minutes, Dick got worried. Hana's room was just two doors down, and if she couldn't find her things, she would have already called for help.

Dick poked his head out of the door, blue eyes flashing as he glanced around for his niece. ″Hana?″

A screech met his worried call, and Dick leaped into action, darting towards Hana's room with his tazer in hand. ″HANA-″

Dick froze in the doorway, his body tense. After a moment, he snorted and put away his taser, rolling his eyes. ″I almost shocked you, y'know. You should call before you come over.″

The six-foot young man, with dark black hair and goatee, smirked, his navy eyes shining with mischief as he lifted Hana to his waist. Hana was screaming happily and blabbering on about ″Unca Tim, Unca Tim!″. Tim grinned at his adoptive brother, running a hand through Hana's long locks. She nuzzled into the touch, but didn't stop talking. ″Right. Because the Demon Brat would actually let me see her.″

Dick rolled his eyes. He knew Tim was exaggerating- Damian and Tim were actually very close in their more mature ages. Tim, now almost thirty, was less harsh on his younger brother and more open. Damian, in turn, had stopped trying to kill Tim. It did wonders for their relationship. The truth was that Tim had been busy for a long while, hence his scruffy face, and unable to visit. He was helping Bart with a ″secret assignment″. The two said nothing about it, even leaving out Rose and Stephanie from their plans. Dick was suspicious, but trusted his younger brother to make the right decision. If something were off, Bart and Tim would tell everyone... Right?

″Unca Tim! Unca Tim! Will you bwush my haiw?″

Tim grinned, kissing the girl's head. His grin broadened when he saw Dick's downtrodden face. ″Yes, of _course_ I'll brush your hair, Hana.″

″Yay!″

Dick left, murmuring something about work, leaving Tim with his niece. Tim set the little girl down on her green bed, taking up the comb to brush out the tangles in Hana's hair. When he would come across a rather large one, he used the 'Octa-spway', as Hana had dubbed it. It was de-tangler spray, the bottle bright green with an orange octopus across the front. Hana began to babble as Tim ran his fingers through her hair, his thoughts drifting to his barren wife with a heavy heart. He and Stephanie had often talked about adoption, but at the same time, they didn't want to bring a child into the 'hero life' so purposefully. Maybe they were barren for a reason. Maybe they weren't meant to create another generation of heroes.

″Unca Tim? Awe you wistening?″

Tim was jolted out of his thoughts. ″Huh? Yeah! Sorry, baby. What were you talking about?″

Hana scoffed and began her tale again, making Tim smile. Slowly, he breathed in Hana's scent. She smelt like her de-tangler and chocolate milk, the usual scent for the small child.

There came a knock at the open door, and Tim looked up to see Bruce standing there. ″Tim. You didn't say hello.″

Tim rolled his eyes, smiling softly as he embraced his adoptive father. ″Sorry, Bruce. I was eager to see my little niece!″

Bruce looked at Hana, who was beaming up at her grandfather and uncle. ″Right. Well, we need to talk in private. Hana, your mommy just got back from her jog. Why don't you go say hi?″

Hana's golden eyes lit up, and she grabbed her miniature ladybug Pillow Pet before floundering down the stairs. Bruce waited until he heard Hana's happy squeal before turning to his son, all smiles and sunshine set aside. ″What did you find out?″

Tim shoved his hands in the pockets of his blazer, a frown deep-set on his face. ″Not much. We know he's back, that's for sure. We're just not positive how long he's been in business, much less if he's back to full strength or not.″

Bruce scowled, rubbing his forehead. ″Do Wally and Barry know?″

Tim shook his head. ″No. And Bart and I want to keep it that way. Right now, it's just us three that know. There's no need to cause a panic when we don't even know what he's after.″

A gloom settled in the room as Bruce turned his back on his son, going towards the doorway. He placed a tightly-packed fist on the wooden frame, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. ″Right. No need to panic... But still, I want to up security around the Manor. I've already planted tracking devices on Iris and Hana, along with cameras in all of Hana's... What are those things?″ Bruce gestured to the stuffed animals on Hana's bed.

Tim picked one up, a turtle, and began to tap on its plastic eyes. ″Pillow Pets. And... cameras? Really, Bruce? That's creepy, borderline stalker.″

Bruce snorted, rolling his eyes. ″Because _you _didn't already put cameras in their van and all over Gotham and Central.″

Tim flushed, tossing the toy back onto the bed. ″Y-Yeah, but it's not a _kid's toy_. Really, Bruce?″

Bruce's teasing tone was suddenly gone, his face stoic but eyes burning with a passion. ″I've been much too close to losing more children before... I am _not_ planning on losing my only grandchild.″

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**PS- The whole story is already written. Five chapters in all. I'll update every day- I KNOW! Scotty updating on a REGULAR BASIS? WTH?! Haha! But, yeah, you're not gonna like me for the next chapter... *winces* That's when the plot is revealed.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! If you review, you'll get COOKIES! (not really, but Hana will give you a Baby!Bat!kiss on the cheek)**


	2. the Masked Man

**WARNINGS: Okay, so, this is not a happy story. It's not super gory or scary, but Chapters 3-4 get gory. This chapter is just scary, and the rest are disturbing. If you are offended by anything or scared, just know I warned you!**

**I do not own anything except for Hana Martha!**

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CHAPTER 2

Iris arrived home from her 'jog' just a few minutes later. Her hair clung to her face in dark strips due to perspiration, her shirt dark and wet between her shoulder blades and under her breasts. Iris's chest was heaving as she breathed in and out slowly, her stomach rumbling loudly. The woman took off her shoes and discarded them at the large, glass double doors of the Manor.

″Hellooooo?″ she called as she walked towards the kitchen. ″Anybody hoooome?″

Suddenly, Dick rushed by her with a mug of coffee, car keys, and a backpack, exclaiming, ″RUN AWAY FROM THE FIRE-BREATHING DRAGON!″

Iris whirled around to see Bruce standing in the doorway, glaring fiercely after his oldest son, but not bothering to run after him. ″My... coffee,″ he growled, eyes narrowing. Iris laughed, going into the kitchen.

″I'll make you another cup, Gramps.″

Bruce turned his glare to Iris, who threw her hair back as she laughed. There came a thumping sound, deeper than that of Hana's footsteps, and Iris turned to look at the stairs. Her mouth dropped when she saw her brother-in-law coming down the stairs with Hana in his arms. ″T-Tim! When did you get here?″

She ran, at normal speed, to the ebony haired man and embraced him before he could object. ″Ack! Iris! Ugh, now I have to go shower...″

″Nope! You're gonna make Bruce a mug of coffee while Hana and I go shower. C'mon, angel,″ Iris crooned to her daughter, putting the girl on her hip. Hana didn't seem to mind her mother's sweat and just nestled into the woman's neck, happy that her mother's mood had improved.

The two went upstairs to bathe, and Tim obediently went to the kitchen to get his father a mug of coffee. ″Let me guess- Dick was running late because he decided to play with Hana instead of get ready, and he stole your coffee.″

Bruce grumbled as he plopped down at the table, running a hand over his stubble-covered face. Tim smirked, sitting opposite his father with two steaming mugs of Joe. ″Here. Next time, don't let the Gypsy near your stuff. You know he's the best pick pocket ever.″

Bruce ignored the young man as he gulped the liquid fire. There was silence for a long while, which Tim and Bruce both enjoyed. Bruce had always liked quiet, and Tim couldn't blame him, after raising four boys and a girl. Tim enjoyed the quiet, as well. There was hardly any quiet at his apartment, with Titans and Leaguers feeling they could come and go as they pleased. It was annoying, but it made Tim feel slightly appreciated... Slightly. He was mostly annoyed. Jason, Tim knew, couldn't stand too much noise. He liked some noise, but too much would make him go trigger-happy. And Dick- well, Dick couldn't stand the quiet. Being raised in a circus was the main key, there. If it was too quiet, Dick would crack a joke or ask a question or _something_ to get the terrible silence to go away. That was why Dick came over to the Manor so often, even though he had his own apartment. Dick could hardly stand being alone at his apartment, as his wife was often off at her own special 'cave' to help superheroes all around the world. It was a 24/7 job, but Barbara loved it. Dick came to the manor so that he wouldn't be alone, so that he could spend time with his niece and his brothers.

It was odd how everyone in the 'Bat-family' was so different, yet they all clashed together so... perfectly. Barbara and Dick made a great team with their combined persistence and stubbornness, even though Barbara said otherwise (in good fun, of course). Tim and Stephanie, well, those two were complete opposites, and they were married! Tim was calm, collected, serious. Stephanie's mind was everywhere at once, always moving, never ceasing to make noise, even if she was sleeping. Tim often was forced to wake his wife up and give her anxiety pills so she would stop kicking him in his sleep.

Bruce and Selina were a... different type of team. A... _special_ team.

″Batman.″

The gruff voice shook Tim from his thoughts, and he looked up from his coffee to see Bruce's stern face glaring into the table before him, one hand up on the comm link that was always in his ear.

″Alright. Red Robin and I are on our way.″

Bruce stood, going into the den where the famous grandfather clock resided. ″That was Black Canary. She and Arsenal need help.″

Tim was up in an instant, scrawling down a note for Iris and slapping it to the fridge with a piece of tape. ″Are they alright?″

″Arsenal is injured, but Canary says its nothing serious yet.″

″Yet?″

″The Shadows decided it would be fun to wreak havoc on Star City.″

Tim winced as he followed his father into the den, his eyes drifting to the open clock. ″Time to go have some fun, right?″

Bruce grunted in reply.

…

...

…

Iris smiled as Hana splashed the water in the bath, putting bubbles on her chin and claiming she was Gimli. Iris wasn't sure whether or not to be worried that her three-year-old loved Lord of the Rings so much...

″Momma! Momma! Moooooommaaaaaa!″

″Huh? Oh, sorry angel,″ Iris said as she went back to washing her daughter's jet black hair. ″No knots... Did Uncle Dick brush your hair?″

″Nooooo... Unca _Tim_ did, Momma!″

Iris smiled softly. ″Uh huh?″

″Uuuuum huh! An- An den, we pwayed Pwincess an stuffs, an we had lotsa fun an...″

Iris went about washing her own hair as her daughter blabbered on, a trait consistent with speedsters. Although Hana did not actually have superspeed yet, she showed persistent signs of having the meta gene. Her golden eyes, her ADD and ADHD, her boundless appetite, her constant talking- her speech was amazing for a child her age. Of course, her speech still had that childish stammer, which was expected as her brain worked faster than her mouth, but she still had an amazing vocabulary for a child. Whenever Hana didn't know a word, she would look it up in the dictionary. Yes, _she_ would look it up in the _dictionary_. Hana could read and write, albeit her writing was consistent with that of chicken scratch.

But still, a _three-year-old_ that could _read_ and _write_?

The signs were impeccably there. Damian just did not want to acknowledge them.

A loud beeping noise resounded, and Iris quickly got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around herself, going to answer the phone that was tucked inside the medicine cabinet. She swore inwardly at the cold air that met her wet shoulders and toes. ″Hello?″

″_Hhhh... Hhhhhhh... Hh...″_

Iris cocked an eyebrow at the heavy breathing on the other line. ″Um... Hello?″

″_Hnnn... Nhhhhhhhhhhh...″_

″He-″

″_I'm coming for you... Impulse...″_

A long tone signaled the caller had dropped. Iris's eyes were wide, her mouth open slightly. Hana looked up from her rubber ducky to see her mother's back. ″Momma? Wats wrong?″

Iris turned to look at her daughter- her tiny, three-year-old daughter, who was just starting out in life- and her heart froze. ″H-Hana, sweetie, get your clothes on, okay?″

Hana nodded, pulling the bathtub plug and climbing out of the tub, with a great deal of effort, mind you. Iris was already dressed, the towel lying on the floor, forgotten, as she ran to the room she shared with her husband. Using her superspeed, Iris began searching the bedside table and the desk at the north wall for her comm unit. ″C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! Where is it-″

″Looking for this?″

Iris whirled around, her face going pale as she saw her communicator lying on the floor.

But no one was around.

Iris couldn't deny that she had heard a voice- a low, familiar voice, cracked with age and echoing a bruised ego. Slowly, her eyes darting around the room, Iris crept towards the comm unit. She picked it up and, ever so slowly, placed it in her ear. It crackled and sputtered to life, but let out a long drone that signaled...

_No _signal. She had no signal. Her communicator _wasn't working_.

And _he_ was here.

″AAAHH!″

″HANA!″

Iris supersped into the bathroom, letting out a gasp of relief when she saw her daughter lying on the floor in her tiny yellow sundress, crying, a bump on her head. ″Mooooommaaaaa!″ the little girl cried, nursing her forehead. ″Moooommaaaa...″

Iris, her nerves still on edge, grabbed up her daughter and frantically kissed her forehead. ″See? Momma's kisses made it all better! Right?″

″Momma...″

″Yes, pumpkin?″

″Who dat?″

Iris turned as Hana's pudgy baby finger pointed to the second-story window of the bathroom. There was a dark silhouette in the window, its head pressed against the glass, a wicked, ghoulish white grin on its lips.

Iris gasped and zoomed towards the kitchen. Hana screamed at the speed, pressing herself against her mother. ″M-Momma! AH! MOMMA!″

″Hana, angel, be a good girl and be brave for Momma, okay?″ Iris said the words tearfully as she looked around the kitchen. ″TIM? BRUCE?″

Her eyes spotting the note on the fridge, Iris let out a grunt of frustration. The gold-eyed babe in her arms pursed pouty pink lips, running her little hands through her mother's red hair. ″Why Momma sad?″

″Be brave, baby, 'kay?″ Iris spoke softly to her daughter, her voice shaking. She clutched her daughter tightly to her chest while picking up her cellphone, lying on the counter top. A long drone told her she had no signal. Fighting back tears, Iris grabbed the land line, thanking God that Bruce hadn't uninstalled it yet. But it, too, refused to work.

Tears running down her face, Iris could feel cold shadows creep in on her heart. She zoomed into the den, throwing open the grandfather clock.

″Momma! Momma, what- AAAHH!″

Hana and Iris both screamed as an enormous gust of wind caused the windows around them to concave. ″MOMMA!″

″Be brave for Momma, Hana! O- Okay?″

Burying her face in her mother's neck, Hana nodded tearily. Iris zoomed down the stairs to the Cave, just catching a flash of yellow in the corner of the den with her eyes. ″H-Hana, baby, Momma loves you, y-y'know? You k-know that, r-right?″

″Does- Does Momma love Daddy?″ Hana hiccuped, rubbing tears from her big, bright eyes as she looked at her mother, not bothering with the sudden cave-like surroundings about her.

″O-Of course Momma loves D-Daddy, sweetheart,″ Iris said, kissing the small bump on her daughter's head. ″A-And Daddy l-l-loves M-Momma...″

Silent sobs were racking Iris's body as she ran to the main computer. It was off, so she quickly set about turning it on. Iris's whole being was focused towards one thing, and one thing only- saving her daughter. She knew he was here. She knew why he was here. She didn't know how, but she knew why. He had come back to kill her, to get revenge on Wally. It was his last-ditch effort on ending the Flash and the Flash's legacy- to kill Iris and Hana.

Footsteps echoed through the Cave, and Iris dropped into the computer's chair, bringing her knees up to her chest and trapping her daughter in a cocoon of limbs. Iris buried her face into Hana's hair as the footsteps got louder and louder... As he got closer and closer...

″Mo-″

″Shush, Hana,″ Iris whispered gently, brushing her fingers through her daughter's sopping wet hair.

″M-Mooooomma... I's s-s-scawed...″

″B-Be brave for Momma, k-kay, s-sunshine? Be- be b-brave...″

″W-Why is Momma cwying? Mo-″

″Shush now, H-Hana...″

The footsteps were right behind her now. The computer sputtered to life as a cold, heavy hand fell onto Iris's shoulder. White static focused into an image of the Watchtower, and Iris screamed out, ″HELP! SAVE MY BAB-″

_Squish._

Hana gasped as she felt something warm and wet hit her face. Her big eyes widened even further, and her pouty baby lips opened in a silent gasp as red liquid dripped down her forehead.

Slowly, her whole body shaking like a leaf in a tornado, Hana looked up-

And she shrieked.

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**So... yeah. Review?**


	3. the Video SOS

**I FORGOT TO UPDATE YESTERDAY OMGIMSOSORRYPLEASEFORGIVEMEILLGIVEYOUCOOKIES!**

**So here's TWO chapters! :D**

**(i dont own besides Hana)**

**WARNINGS: Violence, language (i think), gore.**

*****READ*** Okay, so I know people are going to hate this story, especially fans of SpeedDemon and Hana!verse, but I've had this backstory for Hana planned since before I published the first story about her and her birth. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but this is how it has to be... because I said so...**

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CHAPTER 3

Batman sighed heavily, his body feeling like his arms and legs were made of lead. Not to mention his head was pounding, his heart was thrashing, and his stomach was churning. A bright flash of blue light appeared around him, and he swore as his head was sent spinning again.

Red Robin, standing next to his father, chuckled and took of his mask as the Watchtower appeared around the two. ″Getting old, _Gramps_?″ he teased, elbowing Batman. The Dark Knight turned his glare towards the bird, who only laughed.

Next to the two men, two women stood. One was older, about the age of the Dark Knight, with medium-length blonde hair that framed her face. She wore a full leather body-suit and combat boots, iron-enforced gloves on her hands. Next to her was a younger woman, in her early twenties, with long, thick black hair pulled into a high ponytail that still went down to below her rear end. She wore a tight, mock-neck red top and red leather pants, cut-outs on the legs down to her short gray boots. Gray laces and decals covered her suit at various places, and a red cloak adorned her shoulders, the insides a pitch black color. The black-haired woman was armed with a bow and arrows, along with several guns, knives, a pair of sai, and throwing stars.

″Lian,″ Tim addressed the younger woman as he took off his mask, ″do you want to visit Hana? I'm sure she'd be up for it.″

Arsenal grinned as she took off her black domino mask, flipping her ponytail. ″Well I don't have much to do today. Grandma, can you handle the mission paperwork?″

The blonde woman 'harrumph'ed as she rolled her eyes at the girl. ″First off, I'm not that old, and second off, you _always_ put the paperwork on me!″

Lian laughed loudly, and Batman, now Bruce Wayne as he had shed his cowl, frowned understandingly at the blonde woman. ″I know, Dinah. The younger ones feel like they need to run a thousand miles an hour. Really, Lian, it wouldn't take you but five minutes to run the paperwork.″

″Yeah! So why can't Grandma do it?″

Tim elbowed Lian, smirking. ″She needs to get back to her knitting, Lian!″ he exclaimed theatrically. ″You do the paperwork, and I'll go change.″

Lian bubbled her lips, but nodded. ″Grab me some clothes, too.″

″On it.″

The two separated, leaving Bruce and Dinah behind. With a heavy sigh, Dinah collapsed into a chair. ″Oh, I don't know how many more years of crime-fighting my body can take,″ she grumbled, pulling off her gloves. Bruce collapsed next to her, grunting in fellowship as he rubbed his throbbing head. ″And oh Lord I'm glad Lian didn't just hear me say that!″

At that, Bruce chuckled. His dark eyes turned to his old friend, and navy met green. A mutual understanding was held in that moment- one that didn't need speech. Dinah and Bruce knew they were getting old. They knew that they'd both eventually retire, fortunate to even be retiring and not buried. It was a glorious day when a hero could hang up their cape- it showed that they trusted the next generation, their old sidekicks, now heroes of their own. It showed that the hero had led a good life, able to hand over their city to a new crime-fighter. It showed that there would be one less early headstone at a graveyard.

A loud scream resounded through the Watchtower, making Dinah and Bruce jump. Bruce stood first, going into a defensive fighting position. ″What was-″

″Lian!″ Dinah exclaimed with a gasp, running towards the computer room. Bruce followed, close on her heels. Just outside the door, the exhausted heroes found Tim typing in a code furiously.

″What the Hell is going on?″ Dinah exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

Tim swore loudly as he began to try and pry open the doors. ″I don't know! Lian went in, I heard her scream, and I came over- but the door's _locked_!″

Bruce shoved Tim back, planting explosives on the door. ″MOVE!″ he shouted at Dinah, tackling the woman away just before the explosives went off. A loud _boom_ and a flash of light resounded, and the three heroes ran into the room.

Lian was lying on the floor, her face blank. She looked to be sleeping. Tim ran forward and lifted the lithe woman into his lap, checking for a pulse. He let out a sigh of relief when he found one. ″She's just unconscious-″

″Oh my- oh my G-G-G... Oh...″ came Dinah's surprised, pained, defeated gasp. Tim looked over towards where Dinah stood in front of the computer, staring at the red image before her. Bruce had already dropped to the seat of the computer and was frantically typing in summons to the Batcave, rallying every free hero he could to come to the Watchtower.

Tim's whole face turned stark white when he saw the red-stained image on the screen. It was cut into his brain instantly, tattooed to his mind. Pure adrenaline rushed through his body as he bolted towards the zeta tubes, Dinah shouting after him. Tim ignored her, quickly typing in the coordinates for the Batcave as he felt tears rush to his eyes. As blue light flashed around him, Tim grasped at his hair, silently begging every deity he could think of that this was a prank.

A terrible, terrible prank.

But when he was flashed to the Batcave, Tim realized it was no prank.

There sat Iris in the computer seat, her head slumped forward, her appendages lolled out over the chair's arms, her hair stuck to the sides of her face and her neck, her eyes open and glazed over, unseeing, her whole body stiff and pale, her bare feet and hands limp, but her fingers curled up as if she was trying to hold something, protect something in her cold torpor...

Her throat slit straight through.

* * *

**Sorry it's so short. And...**

** I WARNED YOU!**


	4. the Broken Man

**Okay, so I said this story was five chapters, right? Hehehe... I lied. SORRY! I thought it really was five chapters... But it's not... It's four... :*(**

**I DONT OWN... besides the adorableness that is Hana Martha! :D**

* * *

CHAPTER 4

Damian cursed at the traffic. He was on his way to work, running already ten minutes late, and all of the cars in Gotham had decided to suddenly stop at one intersection. He groaned and threw his head down on the steering wheel. The loud noises of people yelling and cars honking came from outside, not helping the frustrated man's mood any.

_Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz._

Damian's cool eyes shifted to glare at his phone, as if trying to make it drop dead. It continued to vibrate and ring, though. With a heavy sigh, Damian grabbed the Blackberry and hit the screen with his thumb.

″WHAT-″

″_Damian! Damn it, Damian, we've been trying to get a hold of you for ages! Where the Hell is your communicator?″_

Damian swore inwardly. ″At the Manor. Drake, what-″

″_Get back here. NOW.″_

″Why the Hell-″

″_Damian... It's Iris.″_

Damian's eyes widened, and his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He steeled his voice before asking, ″What happened?″

″_Damian-″_

″What. Happened?″

″_Damian, just get the Hell over here, NOW.″_

With that, Tim hung up. Damian paused for a moment, staring at the phone and thinking of all the different things that had been oh so _wrong_ with that call. First off, Tim had sounded like he was crying. _Crying_. The Red Robin, steel-stomached and never shed a tear, not since his father's untimely murder, had been crying. Second off, the simple bluntness of Tim's message. He hadn't shed any details, which made Damian worry all the more. Third off, Tim hadn't said anything about Hana.

Hana.

_Oh God, please not my baby..._ Damian thought as he grabbed the keys from the ignition. He left the car, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. _Not _either_ of my babies, please, God... Not my angel. Not my princess. Please, God, please._

Damian didn't know why he was panicking so much as he ran down the highway, people yelling and cursing at him, shaking their fists. He didn't know why his heart was racing so much, or why he felt a cold sense of dread over his entire core. _Not them. Please not them._

But he knew that something was _wrong_.

Something was very, very wrong.

…

…

…

Tim stared at the bloody white sheet that had been placed over Iris's body. She had been moved to a metal examination table in the Cave, in the back of the infirmary. Tim's eyes studied the way the silhouette of her head bent back too far, the way red soaked where the sheet was glued to her neck and down to her chest. One cold, white hand fell off the table and could be seen from where it broke past the sheet. Dull orange hair peeked out from the bloodied veil, drooping sadly along the metal legs of the table.

Tim felt tears come to his eyes, his chest suddenly growing tight. ″Dammit,″ he growled, rubbing furiously at his red cheeks. Why the Hell was he crying so much?

_Because she's gone..._

His teammate, his friend, his _little sister_, was gone. Dead. Kaput. She was over. Done. Finished.

A heavy hand touched Tim's shoulder, and he whirled around, swearing at the thought that he had let his guard down so much that he didn't hear someone approaching.

There stood Dick, eyes full of tears, cheeks stained by those he had already shed. His whole body was shaking lightly as he tried not to cry. Tim bit his lip, looking down. Dick pulled his younger brother into his arms, and Tim returned the hug fiercely. Dick's shoulders were shaking violently with silent sobs. Tim blinked, stooping slightly to rest his head on his older brother's shoulder. Blinking lightly, two slow tears made their ways down Tim's cheeks. He grunted, biting his lip harder to keep the tears at bay.

He wouldn't cry.

He _couldn't_ cry.

He had not right.

Not when Wally, Linda, Bart, Barry, and Iris were all gathered in the Cave, all weeping and screaming in anguish over the sudden, terrible death.

″It's- it's okay, T-Timmy,″ Dick mumbled in Tim's ear. ″It's okay.″

The flood gates broke, and Tim's facade was shattered.

He wept.

…

…

…

Alfred let out a shaky sigh as he held Hana close to his bosom. The three-year-old was sleeping, tear-tracks down her face. Her chest was catching as she let out uneven breaths. The poor child was traumatized.

When Batman, Red Robin, Arsenal, and Black Canary had arrived at the Cave, Arsenal had instantly broke down. She had wailed as she clutched Iris's lifeless face, screaming and begging for her best friend to open her eyes- just _open her eyes_. Red Robin had stumbled around as if drunk, unable to cope with the situation. Black Canary had cried silently before slapping Red Robin and Arsenal, getting them both to calm down and contact who needed to be contacted. Black Canary and Arsenal had then left, trying to track down the sick bastard that killed their friend. Red Robin had set about calling Wally and Linda, ordering them as well as Bart, Iris, and Barry to 'get their speedster asses to the Cave, _now_'.

In all that time, Batman had found Hana, curled up into a ball behind a stalagmite, weeping with confusion and fear and pulling at her hair, ripping some of it out with her grubby hands.

Now, Alfred was dressing Hana in a pink cotton nightgown, having just dried her from a cool bath. The stressed child had contracted a fever from all the commotion.

Alfred sighed once more as he grabbed a blanket from the tot's bed, wrapping her up in it tightly as he made his way to the kitchen. On his way down the steps, the butler stopped in a mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks splotchy and red. The old man raised an arthritic hand to his face, trying to rub away the tear-tracks.

Hana whimpered and shifted in the blankets, and Alfred looked down at her with a sad smile. He hefted her up higher on his shoulder, giving a soft grunt as his old back and tired arms protested. _I really am much too old for this job..._

The butler sat down in a chair in the kitchen, simply hugging Hana to his chest as he rocked from side to side, stroking her hair and cheeks. Hana sneezed lightly, hazy yellow eyes opening slightly under thick black eyelashes as she glanced up at the old man. ″Gwandada,″ she whimpered, rubbing her tiny, snotty nose in Alfred's suit. He closed his eyes tiredly, kissing the crown of Hana's head as she whimpered once more, nestling herself closer to Alfred's chest.

Softly, the old man began to croon a lullaby. His words faded in and out from English to Russian to Arabic, back to Russian and English, then to Celtic and Romanian. Hana's little body relaxed as she fell asleep once more, her soft snores sounding like tiny snuffles as they were muted by the blanket.

The front doors slammed open.

Hana's eyes shot open, and she gasped. Suddenly, she began to wail and clutch at Alfred's shoulders. The butler sighed, standing and bouncing the toddler around as his eyes drifted towards the entryway.

Damian stood there, covered in sweat and shaking, his eyes wide and glazed over. They settled on his daughter, and Damian's shoulders seemed to relax, if only a little. He darted over to Alfred and Hana, taking the toddler from the old man and hugging her tightly, simultaneously checking her little body for injuries. ″Alfred, Drake told me-″

″Miss Hana is fine, Master Damian,″ Alfred replied, his voice wavering. ″It is... It is Miss Iris, sir. She is...″ Alfred couldn't bring himself to say it. The withering man placed one hand over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath, another hand propping his body up on the counter.

Damian was startled to see the usually composed butler so distraught. The last time he remembered seeing Alfred like this was when Bruce 'died'...

A gasp left the man's lips, his eyes going wide. ″Al-Alfred... Is Iris- Is Irey...″

Alfred's shoulders gave a sudden lurch with a silent sob, and his tired blue eyes met Damian's. Pure terror rushed through the young man as he set his daughter down in a kitchen chair. Damian's tired legs were given a sudden rush of adrenaline as he bolted towards the Cave. His gut was leading him there. After all, where else would a... _body_ be?

_No, no, no, no, no... Oh, please, God, please let it be a joke. A prank. A badly, badly planned prank. Dear God please, please, _please_! Not my angel. Not my Irey. Not her. _Anyone_ but _her_, God-_

Damian leaped the last few steps to the Batcave, his eyes sweeping over the crowd there. Wally, Linda, and Jai were off to one side, Lian clutching Jai tightly as he wept, his knees completely gone. Wally and Linda were crying together, holding each other like their lives depended on it. On another side of the Cave was Bart, Rose, Tim, and Dick. Bart looked like he was dying, his whole composure gone as he sat- practically laid- on the ground, slamming his fists against Tim's chest as his best friend held him, weeping silently. Dick was trying to comfort Rose, who was crying uncontrollably. It didn't seem to be going so well as Dick was crying uncontrollably, too. Bruce stood off, away from either group, his head in his hands as a sure sign of being unable to cope.

It was Wally who saw Damian first. His green eyes grew wide with shock and grief. He took a step towards Damian, holding his hand out, but Damian cut him off. ″Where is she?″

Dick's head snapped up as he heard his youngest brother's voice. ″D-Dami-″

″WHERE IS SHE?!″

Everyone looked at Damian, tears still running down faces, moans of anguish still hanging in the air. It was Tim that finally pointed to the Medical Bay.

Everyone watched, having suddenly grown silent, as Damian entered the room. They heard nothing, and then- _CRASH!_

Something was knocked over, following a scream of pure agony. Sobbing followed, mixed in with begs and pleads to God, to Allah, to _anyone_ that would listen and _help_.

The strong, silent Damian Wayne had been broken, once and for all.

* * *

**... the end...**


End file.
